


walk right up and bite me (grab a hold of me and fight me)

by A (mumblemutter), cm (mumblemutter)



Category: The Losers (2010), X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Blood, Crossover, Fanart, Graphics, M/M, Post-Canon, Remix
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-20
Updated: 2013-01-20
Packaged: 2017-11-26 06:18:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/647490
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mumblemutter/pseuds/A, https://archiveofourown.org/users/mumblemutter/pseuds/cm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He finds Clay in Wisconsin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	walk right up and bite me (grab a hold of me and fight me)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theleaveswant](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theleaveswant/gifts).
  * Inspired by [change my friends to enemies (show me how it's all my fault)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/434022) by [lady_krysis (saekhwa)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/saekhwa/pseuds/lady_krysis). 



He finds Clay in Wisconsin, and why the fuck he would go back there Roque has no clue, but he doesn't question it. Just nods his head when the kid with the giant black eyes that are all pupil tells him, "That's where he is, mister. You asked me to find him." Kid can find anyone in the goddamn world just by thinking about them. Freak of nature, but aren't they all these days.

Xavier says, "You don't have to go, William."

"We on a first name basis now?" The man smiles, but doesn't respond, so Roque says, "I'll come back."

"I know you will. It's that I don't know what you'll do when you get there." There's an edge to the concern in his voice, a silent _don't cross that line_. Sanctimonious prick. Also telepath, not clairvoyant. He doesn't know what Roque's planning to do because Roque doesn't know.

"You can de-brief me when I get back, professor. Punish me for my sins. I promise to repent." Xavier's answering smile is tight, but resigned. Roque hasn't figured out what his lines are, just like he never figured out Clay's.

Roque's were, once upon a time, simple enough: anything to serve his country, watch his team's back, stay alive.

Somehow, he managed to get fucked on all three.

"Do take care," Xavier says finally, softly. His wheels don't make a sound as he backs out of the foyer, and Roque's, "I always do," is said to empty air.

-

Roque finds him in Wisconsin. Takes him long enough; Clay leaves a trail of breadcrumbs any rookie spook could follow, and Roque's not a rookie anything. Aisha says, before he leaves, "You should have let me kill him."

"You tried, remember. You all tried."

But Roque's different now. Hidden in a mansion in New York literally no-one knows the location of. Not even Jensen can find it: he told them, when they first start looking, when they first figured out Roque was alive, "I'm sorry. You can't hack a telepathic shield just yet. I'm working on it."

The school's shielded but Roque is not: Clay gives everyone points for trying, even himself.

But you can't kill someone who just keeps coming back.

-

Travel is kinda easier nowadays, not even factoring in how they have their own bird. Pooch would have killed for a chance to ride this baby, and honestly Roque can't figure out how the military lets a private organization keep this kind of tech, but like so many questions he has the answer always seems to come down to: "Xavier's a scary motherfucking telepath."

"You sure I'm not putting you out," he asks Summers, who smiles at him. 

With his smooth red stare and flat voice, Roque can't read him at all, and he knows Summers prefers it that way. Roque's almost used to it by now. "We're on our way to a rescue mission in LA. No trouble at all."

"I'll see ya," Roque says, when he's dropped off on the Tarmac.

Summers inclines his head, says, "The professor expects you back, and so do I."

He's just another prick, just like his master. Roque gives him only a slightly ironic salute in response. He watches the bird disappear into the air until it's nothing but a black speck before he starts moving.

Time to face the music, or so they say.

Roque's tired of running, tired of being dead.

-

Clay checks into a motel room, the same room they checked into previously: direct view to the target's apartment across the road. They'd given up on rebuilding the place after the explosion, and so now all Clay sees when looking out the window is the broken shell of a building. Jensen sends him updates - Roque's in a plane with Scott Summers, and he sounds excited about the jet like Roque's a fucking superhero now. He says as much, and Jensen replies easily, "He's still a traitor, and honestly I'm more worried about your loyalty than I am about myself."

"Just do your job and keep me updated. No-one tries to kill him."

"Heard ya the first five times you said that."

The line disconnects.

Clay drifts into sleep at some point while waiting, and instincts wake him up as soon as Roque enters the room. Clay keeps one arm tucked under the pillow near his gun but doesn't open his eyes, tracks Roque by movement. When he finally does, Roque is grinning down at him like he's the scariest fucker alive, and Clay remembers: sometimes he is. 

"Wanna see a magic trick," Roque asks.

-

Clay's splayed out on the bed, naked save for a sheet over his legs. All the world as if he's asleep, as if he hadn't been waiting. "Remember this room," he says, without opening his eyes, as Roque leans over him.

"Sure. Remember almost dying because you couldn't keep it in your pants."

"Naw, this was just us."

"Was it?" Possibly it was. Huh.

Clay opens his eyes.

"You need to stop trying to kill me," Roque says conversationally.

"You need to learn how to stay dead."

Roque sits down, puts his hand square in the middle of Clay's chest. "I got no control over that." He grins then, as wide and as terrifying as he knows how. "Wanna see a magic trick?"

-

Science, not magic. 

Roque puts his hand on Clay's chest, and then right though it, and yeah that's some magic trick right there.

Magic, not science.

It's still all a fucking trick though. 

"I squeeze hard enough," Roque says, "Say goodbye, Clay."

"You come all the way here to kill me?" Clay can barely breathe, and it hurts, and he's hard now, sudden and unexpected, and that hurts too. He takes a breath, and his heart constricts. 

"You know I can't control this so well," Roque says, and smiles. Clay laughs, and there's blood in the back of his throat, hot and coppery. But that's just from the split lip, that's just from him biting the inside of his cheek. He's not dying, not yet anyway.

Clay blinks sweat out of his eyes. "Are you going to fuck me or not?"

"Aren't I doing that already." When Roque removes his hand, it's covered with blood. "Don't worry," he says. "You can afford to lose much worse. I didn't do any permanent damage. I think."

"Should have killed you when I had the chance," Clay says.

"You did try." He licks some off the blood delicately off his fingers, then smears the rest of it on Clay's face. "Tell the rest of the guys to stop trying. I'm not going down so easy."

"You know how they get."

Roque reaches into his pocket, pulls out a cigarette pack and a lighter. He doesn't light the cigarette up though, just stares at the stick for a while.

"If you're not going to smoke it."

"I thought you quit."

"Who sold you that nonsense?" Clay holds out his hand, but Roque puts the cigarette to his lips instead, helps him to light it up.

"Why are we here, Clay," Roque asks.

-

They don't fuck, in the end. But they don't talk, either. It's probably for the best: neither of them ever resolved their issues either way, they just made it more complicated, tied them both up in increasingly gnarled knots.

"Why are you here," Clay asks, again.

"I don't know, man," Roque replies, and takes Clay's cigarette from his mouth, puts it to his own. "I got someplace else to be."

"So do I."

"Is this the part where we hug our tearful goodbyes, tell each other we're happy to be moving on?"

Clay laughs, and after a moment, Roque follows suit.

  

  


End file.
